Had a bit of a HUGE night out last night, most unexpectedly. Catching up with an old workmate (in town from Sydney) I haven’t seen in almost six years. There were vodka martinis involved, and towards the end of the night a very fun-loving woman I’d met only ten minutes earlier was trying to hook me up with some very inappropriate men. Men, quick, run the other way!! I don’t date anymore, doesn’t she know that? Haha!

It was a rather late night out, and combined with alcohol (which I rarely touch these days), today I am wiped. I was meant to be going out tonight but instead I’m mouching around my apartment, feeling a little fluey and just a touch avoid-y about writing the things I REALLY need to write about.

So instead, you get this. Which I borrowed from Rachel. Who in turn borrowed it from others. Because it’s fun and because otherwise I wouldn’t be writing anything here at all.

The most adventurous thing I’ve ever done is… I don’t know if this is the MOST adventurous thing, but it’s what I want to write about right now. Many years ago I visited Egypt with my then-boyfriend. I think I was 22 or 23. We had two weeks in this mad, wild and ancient place and I loved every minute of it. I hope I get to go back some day!
I’m trying to remember if it was at the Pyramids of Giza or down in the Valley of the Kings in Luxor, but I found myself going into this (once) secret passage-way inside of some dusty old tomb. Thing is – getting into the secret passage-way required lying on one’s back and shimmying underneath a thick stone wall. The space inside was not terribly generous either. I did it without thinking and ever-after I’ve had this feeling of claustrophobia whenever I think of what I did.

If I were a pair of shoes I would be… as close to barefoot as possible, while still being relatively stylish (think painted toenails and a pedicure) and something you can take backpacking around the world. I dunno what kind of shoe that is, but yeah!

My preferred mode of digital communication is… well, it used to be email. But these days I find it easier to reply to tweets than emails. Oh uhhh, and then there’s this blog I have…

I feel happiest when… I’m singing (kirtan, so it’s a shame about tonight), dancing (at a live music gig, salsa or belly-dancing etc), and doing yoga. Also, whenever I’m in the wilds of nature. Oh. Yes.

A little dream I have for my life is to… ummm, I actually find this one a little challenging right now. It’s been a while since I allowed myself to have dreams for my life at all, and I’m still not real good with that. But here’s one: living somewhere in Asia, teaching yoga and perhaps being a freelance writer and published author. Living a very simple and joyous life, with not a single giant flat screen TV in sight. Yep, that’ll do.

The one modern convenience I could NOT do without is… Yup, the internet! A little while ago, I wrote this tweet: “Y’know, I really wouldn’t mind the life of a wandering sadhu. As long as I could keep my internets”.

Music, movies, TV or books: if I could only choose one to enjoy I would pick… music of all kinds. Beautiful vocals, instrumental stuff, tribal drumming music and everything in-between. Except for metal and country. Not really my thing!

Its been busy over here in Svasti-land, where yoga teacher training swallows my Saturdays whole (takes the rest of the week to digest every succulent morsel), and a family visit on Sunday which should’ve taken up only 65% of my waking day instead took the whole dang thing (result of train break downs and seemingly generous offer of a ride from parental unit, but oh, we’ll drop you and your bike off at a train station as close as possible to us and as far as possible from your place). Its my fault, I shouldn’t have assumed they’d do otherwise.

Yup, the weekend went whoosh!

Consequently, not much writing was done, even though on Friday my wonderful-super-special-lotus-bookarrived (from the marvellous Karin). I love it!! And to introduce it to its new home, I’ll take it sightseeing (for inspiration) and some happy snaps of my little treasure seeing some of the landmarks of Melbourne-town.

Here it is this morning, catching a tram to work with me… more photos to come (in another post)!

(You can click on all pics to enlarge)

It was rather foggy this morning

And… for the next week I have a house guest! He’s the 23 year old son of one of my fellow yoginis. In fact, she and I shared a bamboo hut together for four weeks in Thailand last year where I inflicted her with my snoring on a nightly basis, poor thing. Maybe sending me her son is payback?

Nah! ;)

He’s here from Brisbane (major climate difference to deal with) doing some work experience in sound engineering, interning with the Guy in Charge of Sound for Rockwiz – which is filmed in the iconic and handily positioned Espy Hotel.

Lucky thing!

He arrived Monday night, so there’s been plenty of good hostess duties going on and yup, not much time for writing (except when I’m at work where there’s little else to do! Haha…)

Blog lurvvvve

Seems I’ve won the jackpot of blogger-friend love, with BlissChick, Brooks & Linda-Sama all listing me as fellow blog award folks for the exact same award!

This is it!

Personally, I think that’s kinda cool to be triple tagged. They’re all very special chicks, so I am honoured!

And I also think that given this warm three-sided embrace (nothing dirty here folks, move along!) I should respond. But hey, you’re only getting one lot of seven things from me.

Tidbits about me I haven’t told you before (I think) x7

1. Call it the curse of being taught cursive writing in primary school, but I have two types of “E”, “s” and “F/f” that I produce in my handwriting. I never know which one I’m going to use until it arises. This is what they look like…

Notice the variations on F, S and E! (This is really how I write)

2. Sunday night when I really needed some sleep, instead I was kept wide awake with contemplations on the nature of fire, fiery natures, anger and sex. All topics I’m chewing on at present. There might be a post or two in there somewhere and I’ll share with y’all sometime (perhaps).

3. I’ve got a bit of a thing for vampires and own the entire series of both Buffy and Angel on DVD. Plus season one of True Blood (awesome show). I dream of them every now and then, and it’s always an adventure.

4. I was once stood on by a very cranky horse. While I was on holiday in Egypt, believe it or not. We were planning a jaunt around the pyramids of Giza – my boyfriend on a camel and me on a horse. I’d been persuaded this particular horse was okay to ride even though I really didn’t think he was. So we start riding and the horse was definitely not okay. He veered away from where we were meant to be going, wouldn’t respond to riding commands, dumped me in a puddle and came back around to stand on my left inner thigh. For the rest of the trip, I had an enormous bruise which was a little tough to explain at the swimming pool!

5. My very first ever belly dance performance was held as part of a very fun dress up night one of my ex-boyfriends and I organised when the movie Interview with the Vampire premiered (see point 3). We organised approximately forty people to head to the movie all dressed up like vampires, arriving in style in stretch limos.

Yes, I'm in this photo somewhere...

After the movie we wandered a few blocks from the city to Darlinghurst. There, we’d booked out the entire upstairs area of a fantastic Indian restaurant in a gothic styled building. A friend brought an antique coffin (of course) as a center piece.

A coffin, candelabra & plenty of gothicness

We had a quartet of violinists (buskers we’d met on the street) playing as people arrived. And my debut bellydance performance was there, among that environment. I danced to one of my favourite tunes, Yulunga by Dead Can Dance, and I absolutely loved it!

That's me with the veil!

6. As a result of much dancing, performing and teaching others, I developed a theory about human movement (I later realised its not an original observation at all – just tapping into existing knowledge in the world). Its especially clear when people dance – most people either move with their head/neck/genitals/limbs only, or head and heart plus limbs/genitals. Very few people move with their whole body, or sense their lower torso. Even fewer have the ability to isolate the muscles in this area.

Its no coincidence that the lower torso is where we store suppressed emotions and fears. They live in the body until we work with them, and/or they make us sick. Bellydancing especially is great for liberating that part of the body and its one of the reasons I like teaching men as well as women to shake their thang.

I also firmly believe that all kids should be taught to dance and learn at a young age so they avoid feeling self-conscious.

7. Last week Miss Cleopatra (Cleo) the Cat decided it was a good time for a dose of cat flu. Which caused a lot of worry and necessitated a trip to the vet. The vet of course, informed me she also needs approximately $500 worth of dental work in the next couple of months. Sigh.

Payin’ it forward…

You’re also meant to pass this on to seven other people. For the first time in ages, I’m playing along. But only coz there’s some people I’d like to learn a little more about…

Various dark coloured shades of satin and velvet. A talking stick. Women with flowers in their hair, layers of silver jewellery and long swooshing skirts. Sequins and sparkly things. Incense. Grown men and women in robes with hoods. And capes. Leather pouches tied to belts containing runes or tarot cards. The occasional new agey t-shirt with a wolf howling at the moon.

And much beer.

This was my introduction to Pagans in the Pub in Sydney, circa 1993.

A group of twenty or so people gathered in the back room of the Carlisle Castle Hotel (yes, Pagans in the Pub held in a pub with the name ‘castle’ in the title – the puns are free and keep on coming!).

The Carlisle Castle, courtesy of Google street view

Just an unassuming working class pub in the narrow backstreets of Newtown surrounded by workman’s cottages built snugly together. The front bar was populated with stoic and gruff older men, surprised at the repeated declarations of ‘Blessed be’ emanating from the back room.

I spotted T, dressed in a dark red long sleeved shirt, a black vest and jeans, meticulous dark hair and beard. He introduced me to a bunch of people whose names I immediately forgot.

Of course, it wasn’t just ‘hi, I’m Jason’, but ‘hi, I’m Jason-Lightworker and I’m a Druid’. Or ‘hi, I’m Silverstar and I’m a Shaman’. Everyone there, it seemed, was a something-or-other-magical-label which they revelled in.

There was discussion and debate. Plenty of opinions voiced and egos marched out for all to see. The topics were decidedly unusual, but hey, what could I expect from a mixed bag of pagans?

Overwhelming is one word. Colourful is another. Whacky, free-spirited and a little lost… they’re other words.

Let me just say the start of my search in no way resembled where I ended up. But if I hadn’t taken that first tentative step (followed by many others), I never would have met my guru. Even if it was just a slightly out of the way route.

Me and T

Turns out T was one of the movers and shakers in the Sydney pagan community. He was somewhat notorious, and had been around for a long time.

Although at the time I was questioning my sexual preferences (gay/straight/bi), and even though I didn’t find T (14 years my senior) physically attractive, somehow we ended up together.

And actually at the time we met, I was in fact, dating a woman. Clearly, not for long.

That part of the story alone, is worthy of its own focus. There’s no way to write about the how’s and why’s of my relationship with T without changing the point of this story, which is my journey through the world of neo-paganism.

It was a mad eighteen months of my life in which: we went to Egypt (my first overseas trip and T is well-versed in Egyptian mythology); we moved in together (bookshelves, skull candelabras, pentagram rugs and all!); I started belly dancing (he thought I’d like it – I did); he taught me about witchcraft (not as dark and dangerous as most would imagine); we started a coven (small group of people learning witchcraft); we ran a pretty awesome dress up event for the premiere of Interview with the Vampire (another story yet again); T contemplated faking his own death (I talked him out of it)… and more.

Much more.

With T, I attended my first ever pagan type weekend gathering. You know the kind – a bush camp site with bunks and dorms, a mess hall, marquee tents and fire pits. Drums, full moon (and other) rituals, various workshops, late night jam sessions, hash, peace and love. He also took me to my very first Hare Krishna meal by donation/chanting session and we went often.

In some ways, T was the real deal and I learnt a lot from him. In other ways, he was completely stark raving crazy.

I had my doubts about T and I around eight months in. He was running away from his past, and stuck in a certain reality. I was still… learning. However, I was meeting plenty of people and being exposed to all kinds of new ideas.

That time in my life was somehow very important (which is part of that other story). I was still only twenty-two, impressively aimless and ashamed that I hadn’t gone to university.

What I learned

I was living life like it was some big adventure playground. But finally I was learning all kinds that made sense to me (at least some of it did) on spiritual topics. Things I’d written about many years ago. It was… helpful.

But the pagan scene, I found, was a little hollow. Many of the people putting on robes and turning up to full moon rituals could just as easily have been attending church. By that I mean, they seemed to want to belong and be a part of something. Have a label that worked for them. And there was little real magic going on.

I even met one guy who, despite his tattoos and piercings, eyeliner and 100% black wardrobe, claims to black magic and darkness… once said… Do you ever think about what will happen if the Christians are right?

Personally, I didn’t. I’ve never seen things quite as black and white as that.

Generally, the people were lovely and the experiences were cool. But I was looking for something else. I imagined it was like ringing a bell with a very specific tone and pitch that exactly matches my own.

And I hadn’t found it yet.

I even met a genuine yogi at that time – a Kali devotee – fond of naked puja. But it didn’t ring true, not with him. Which perhaps had something to do with the fact that I found him a little peculiar. Nice. But kinda whacked.

Endings & beginnings

Things ended with T as dramatically as they’d begun.

I’d been performing in some local theatre and he was jealous of my co-star (much closer to me in age, not to mention tall, dark & sexy). I found out later T had been following me as I walked to rehearsals!

Nothing had happened, except for the kissing required of our roles. But there was a definite flirtation going on.

T and I had put on another of our big costume parties. All our pagan friends, my theatre and belly dance friends were invited. It was a wild night with a band in the front room, local pop-rock stars in attendance, lots of dancing, drinking and madness.

For reasons known only to T, he flew into a rage after everyone had left, accusing me of sleeping with my co-star (I wasn’t, not yet). He didn’t believe me and threw me out of the bedroom, ordering me to move out the next day (with ominous threats of what would happen if I didn’t).

The threat I’ve never been able to forget is… a little too gruesome to write down.

I was sufficiently terrified and called one of my pagan friends. S said she’d help me move and I could stay with her until I found my own place.